


keep these words inside your chest

by sevensevan



Series: pride month 2018 [23]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/F, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 14:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15027050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: Natasha can't even look at Wanda these days.





	keep these words inside your chest

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to JainaDarklighter here on ao3 for the prompt! hope you like it :)

Natasha isn’t avoiding Wanda.

Natasha is avoiding Wanda, but it’s a little more complicated than that. Wanda is dating Daisy Johnson, the latest addition to the Avengers, who Natasha absolutely _does not_ trust, and not because Wanda is dating her. Not _just_ because Wanda is dating her.

Maybe a little bit because Wanda is dating her.

In all fairness, though, Steve recruited Daisy out of S.H.I.E.L.D. without telling anyone why or even letting them _look_ at her file, and Natasha isn’t the only one who thinks it’s suspicious. She _can’t_ be the only one who thinks it’s suspicious. Daisy ripped the gym floor in half with an earthquake on her _first day_ , for Christ’s sake.

So Natasha is sort of avoiding Wanda, and it’s sort of because of Wanda’s girlfriend, and it’s sort of because every time she sees them together she gets this hot burst of anger and shame and self-hatred in her chest that makes it impossible for her to meet Wanda’s eyes, but Natasha isn’t thinking about that. Instead, she’s running knife drills in the gym. With a blunted training knife, which isn’t nearly as satisfying as a real one.

“You’re avoiding me.” It’s a testament to how wrapped up in her thoughts Natasha is that she doesn’t hear the speaker coming from down the hall, but she doesn’t, and her instincts take over. She whips around, the knife coming up, her grip shifting, and the blade leaves her fingertips just as she makes eye contact with Wanda.

Wanda catches the knife with her magic, a sudden burst of red in the air that stops the blunted point of the blade only inches from her forehead.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Natasha says as the knife clatters to the floor. It’s blunt, supposedly nonlethal, but anything is lethal in her hands, and she knows her own strength. If the blade had connected, it would’ve killed Wanda. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Wanda doesn’t answer. She’s visibly shaken, staring at the knife on the floor. Her eyes are still glowing a bit, red sparking around her fingertips. “I didn’t hear you,” Natasha tries to explain. “I didn’t hear you coming and I just…” She makes a vague, meaningless gesture.

“It’s okay,” Wanda says, blinking the red glow from her eyes.

“It’s _not_ ,” Natasha says. “God, Wanda, I could’ve _killed_ you.”

“You didn’t,” Wanda says firmly. “It was an accident. I am fine.” Natasha wants to argue, but she can’t look Wanda in the eye, and that’s really not conducive to winning any arguments.

“What did you come here to say?” Natasha asks, suddenly realizing that she’s completely forgotten.

“You’re avoiding me,” Wanda says, and Natasha’s stomach drops. She turns away, staring at the punching bags hanging from the ceiling against the far wall of the gym.

“No, I’m not,” she says. _She_ doesn’t even believe her. Best goddamn spy on the planet, and she can’t lie to Wanda because of a stupid fucking _crush_.

(It’s way, way more than a crush, and Natasha knows it. But thinking about it as a stupid, childish thing makes it so much easier to deal with. Love is for children, after all.)

“Natasha,” Wanda says, stepping closer to her. “Please.”

“Let it go, Maximoff,” Natasha says, a warning clear in her voice. Heedlessly, Wanda steps even closer.

“At least tell me what I did wrong,” she says softly, and _God_ , she might as well have punched Natasha in the throat.

“You didn’t do anything,” Natasha mumbles. Wanda sets a hand on her arm, and Natasha jerks away from her, stalking across the gym to the punching bags and pulling one out, its chains rattling as it glides along the metal bars attached to the ceiling.

“Natasha,” Wanda says, and the confusion and hurt is so clear in her voice that it makes Natasha’s chest ache. She has a sudden urge to walk back across the gym, to wrap her arms around Wanda and never let go again.

Instead, she locks the bag into place and punches it. It’s vicious, angry, lacking most of her usual skill. But this isn’t training or practice, this is emotion; complicated, messy, anger and love and jealousy and misery, finding the only outlet it can with Natasha’s mouth firmly shut, everything she wants to say locked inside her.

“Please just go,” Natasha says after a few minutes of working the bag. She didn’t bother protecting her hands; her knuckles are red. They’ll be scraped raw by the end of the night. Wanda is still standing in the middle of the gym, arms crossed, watching her.

“What happened?” Wanda asks softly, instead of acquiescing. “We were friends once.”

“We weren’t friends,” Natasha snaps, punching the bag again, and Wanda flinches.

“We were,” she insists. Natasha catches the bag in her hands, holding it steady. She allows her head to drop forwards, resting against the bag, and she closes her eyes. “I can sense emotions, you know,” Wanda says, changing tack. “I could feel it, that you enjoyed the time we spent together. And now I can sense that something has changed.”

For some reason, that’s it. That’s the last straw for Natasha. She releases the bag, straightening up and looking Wanda in the eye for the first time in weeks.

“You could sense it?” she says bitterly. “Then you already know what happened.” Wanda shakes her head helplessly. “Sense _this_ ,” Natasha snaps. “I’m in love with you. I have been for—I don’t fucking know. Too long. And I can’t—“ She cuts herself off, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, focusing on the pain and not the turmoil in her chest.

“In love with…?” Wanda shakes her head. “That’s not possible.” Natasha laughs, bitter and a little bit hysterical. Of all the reactions she could’ve imagined, that wasn’t one of them. “That’s impossible,” Wanda repeats. “I would’ve…I would have sensed it. I would have sensed _something_.”

“Yeah,” Natasha mutters. “Well. If you had, this all would’ve been a lot easier.” Wanda says nothing to say to that, and suddenly, it seems that there’s nothing left to say at all. “I’ll see you around, Wanda,” Natasha says, stepping past her and walking for the exit.

“Wait,” Wanda calls after her. Natasha pauses, glancing over her shoulder. Wanda is staring after her, eyes wide and stricken, an absolute whirlwind of emotions in her eyes. Natasha waits, but Wanda says nothing, hesitating and hesitating and hesitating.

Natasha turns and walks away, and this time, Wanda doesn’t call after her.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm no longer taking prompts for pride month; if you sent me one i promise i'm working on filling it. find me on tumblr @daisys-quake. thanks for reading; leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed.


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